


innocent when you dream

by MinilocIsland, Treehouse



Category: SKAM (Norway)
Genre: 5+1 Things, Consensual Somnophilia, Established Relationship, Kink Exploration, Kink Negotiation, M/M, Post-Canon, Somnophilia
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-22
Updated: 2020-04-22
Packaged: 2021-03-02 04:21:45
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 17,559
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23739019
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MinilocIsland/pseuds/MinilocIsland, https://archiveofourown.org/users/Treehouse/pseuds/Treehouse
Summary: Everyone has fantasies like these, Isak supposes. Turn-ons they don’t necessarily tell their partners about, or think about other than on certain occasions.So it’s not like Even has to know about this particular secret of his. Plus, Isak’s not even sure he’d want to try it out for real.No. Things are fine the way they are. Really.Until, one day, an off-hand comment of Even’s sets Isak’s brain into overdrive – and suddenly, he can’t stop thinking about it.Or: 5 times Isak was awake, and 1 time he wasn’t.
Relationships: Even Bech Næsheim/Isak Valtersen
Comments: 49
Kudos: 363





	innocent when you dream

**Author's Note:**

  * For [imminentinertia](https://archiveofourown.org/users/imminentinertia/gifts).



> Sooo we've been talking about writing this kink for the longest time, but other fics kept coming in the way – anyway, finally, here it is!
> 
> As some of you might know we've co-written lots of fics together, but only in Swedish. However, we thought it was about time for us to publish something in English as well ;)  
> Title from Tom Waits.
> 
> Gifted to Immy because she's the best. ❤️ 
> 
> Many, many thanks to Ghostcat for being such an awesome beta – this fic is so much better thanks to you! ❤️
> 
> Enjoy!!

1.

Nobody knows as much about Isak as his boyfriend does.

Hell, sometimes Isak feels like Even knows more about him than  _ he _ does. Sometimes, Even seems to know what Isak’s thinking before he’s managed to articulate to himself what he’s feeling, what he wants, or what he needs.

Even is the only person who knows exactly how Isak likes his breakfast (two pieces of toast, black coffee, and in the weekend, pancakes), on which days he wants to take the calls from his mum and on which he doesn’t, and exactly for how long he manages to sit still on the couch watching tv before he starts fidgeting and needs something else to focus on.

Then, there are some things Even doesn’t know about him as well. Some things are, of course, too insignificant to tell him about – who he sat next to in school before Jonas moved to the neighborhood in third grade and claimed his natural spot in Isak’s life, the neighbor’s girl who always hung around them like an annoying little sister, or something equally uninteresting.

Some things are maybe a little embarrassing, or a tad shameful, and not exactly necessary to tell Even about. Like that time that Isak teased said neighbor’s girl about her braids until she started crying and how he spent the following month hiding his face in shame whenever her parents walked by their house. 

It’s not like he’d never want Even to know, there’s just… no point in telling him. It’s in the past, anyway.

Then again, there are also secrets, things more deeply rooted, things  _ nobody _ knows about except Isak. Things Even’ll probably never know, and not because they’re uninteresting, but because Isak actually doesn’t  _ want _ him to know. Things that are safely locked inside Isak’s brain and sometimes make him shift a little in his seat when he thinks of them.

Coincidentally, most of these things have to do with what Isak likes in bed.

Or, not  _ really,  _ because these are things that he’s not sure he’d ever  _ want  _ to try, not for real. He just likes… thinking about them. Sometimes. Things he’s read about or seen in films online, before or after he met Even, and that he’s never thought of articulating.

He supposes everyone has fantasies like that. Turn-ons they never tell their partner about, that can live safely in the corners of his mind and pop up sometimes when called upon. And that’s fine. 

Nowadays, he’s fine with telling Even what he likes and doesn’t when it comes to sex (let’s be honest – there’s very few things he  _ doesn’t _ like when it comes to having sex with Even) but these... fantasies are the kind that he hasn’t really heard about anywhere else. Things he’s not sure  _ Even  _ has heard about. That he’s not particularly sure Even would like, or want to try.

And it’s not like he couldn’t take it if Even said no if Isak suggested them, it’s just – if he’d let Even in on something that’s been a very small but still significant part of his thoughts for so long, and exposed a kinda shameful part of himself for nothing –

No. He can keep those fantasies to himself. And it’s not like he  _ needs _ to try them out. 

Although maybe, sometimes, he wonders what it would be like if Even and him tried _ that _ especially  __ – 

But it’s only thoughts, anyway.

He’s fine with having things the way they are. He really is. 

And he doesn’t have any real plans to change that. 

No. He doesn’t want anything to change. Really. 

* * *

The sun is still up above the rooftops as Isak gets off at their tram stop and steps out into the chilly April air; a hint of possibility and freshness in the wind as he fiddles with the keys in his jacket pocket.

Even’s already home; he’s sent Isak at least twenty pics of the stew he’s making in the kitchen and Isak cannot  _ wait _ to be home already. 

Not only because he’s cold and tired after a long day at the lab, or because he technically hasn’t seen Even since last night since he was sleeping when Isak left early this morning.

But also because Isak’s been carrying around this, well,  _ feeling  _ all day.

Because, when his alarm woke him this morning, he was in the middle of a dream. A  _ very  _ vivid dream.

He doesn’t remember specific details, only that the dream involved Even and a lot of hands and skin and that he woke up sweating with his pulse through the roof and an insistent pounding in his crotch. 

If Isak had been a  _ little  _ more of a morning person and hadn’t set his alarm literally five minutes before he was due out the door, he might have had time to do something about it. 

If not with Even, then in the shower at least. 

It would definitely have helped with getting through this day without having to start the lab over twice, having Sana roll his eyes at him over and over again when he didn’t hear a word she said.

If he’d had a little more time and less decency, he would have texted Even or maybe sent him a picture, but he knew Even had a long shift at KB. Plus, Isak couldn’t really afford to fuck up his lab report any more than he already had.

So, here he is instead, the soles of his feet tingling with longing and not just a little excitement as he turns the key in the lock. There’s a ‘hey’ from the kitchen as he hangs up his jacket, and seconds later Even emerges in the doorway, cheeks flushed and hair tousled, a greasy wooden spoon in his hand and a broad grin on his face.

_ Fuck _ . Sometimes it just hits Isak right in the stomach how  _ hot  _ his boyfriend is.

“Hi babe,” he says and lets Even pull him into a hug, the hand holding the spoon a little awkwardly angled out to the side as he kisses Isak’s hair, then his ear, and his temple. 

Isak’s quick enough to turn his face and kiss Even on the mouth before he disappears back to the stove; lips that catch on lips and a tiny bite that makes Even raise his eyebrows and hum out a chuckle. “Missed me?”

“Mm.” Isak nips at his neck with thumb and forefinger and kisses him again, quick and hard, before he lets go and follows Even into the kitchen, lodging himself behind him with his arms around his waist. “You were sleeping when I left.”

“I was.” Even stretches to the side to pick up a jar of tomatoes and pour it into the stew. “You slept weirdly, though.”

“I did?” Isak feels his heart pick up speed, the skin on his neck heating up a little at the thought of the dream and the remnants of it that have hung around all day. 

“Yeah, I woke up in the middle of the night and you were all over the bed,” Even says, seemingly unaware of how Isak’s getting a little restless behind his back. “You were… rolling around and whimpering, as if you were dreaming. And then you started making these weird sounds, so I tried to wake you up, but…”

“Really?” This can’t have been  _ that  _ dream, or Isak surely wouldn’t have woken remembering it. Maybe he dreamt… multiple ones? “You couldn’t wake me?”

“Isak.” Even puts his hand on top of Isak’s on his stomach and giggles.  _ “Nothing  _ can wake you up when you sleep, you know that. I mean, I could probably have done  _ anything  _ to you and you wouldn’t even have noticed.”

And just like that, Isak freezes.

Any other day, he probably wouldn’t have paid Even’s words any particular mind. Just taken his off-hand comment for what it was; a joke, a casual line in conversation.

But today – maybe because of that dream, the pent-up tension and low-grade desire that’s been simmering in his belly all day, Even’s words hit him right in his core.

Because precisely  _ that _ is one of the few things Even doesn’t know about him. One of those things he’s never planned to share with him.

That video he found years ago online and that has been his go-to fantasy ever since.

A video he bookmarked right away and has watched so many times that he lost count long ago. Always with a tiny hint of shame. Not that it’s  _ wrong _ to be turned on by such things exactly, but it  _ is _ pretty weird to think of how that film was made and –

It’s just that the image of that guy just lying there, asleep and completely out of it, unaware that he’s getting fucked by someone, unable to do anything about it – that image has a direct line down to Isak’s crotch and makes him come in like two seconds every time he thinks about it.

And it’s not like he hasn’t fantasized about what it would be like to actually try that with Even. What it would feel like to wake up sore and full of Even’s come and having no idea of how it happened. 

It’s just that – he’s never considered it for  _ real. _ Only let it live as a low-grade fantasy, about as realistic as that video probably is. Something he can just get off to, then put back and proceed as usual.

But, now that  _ Even _ said it. That he could do  _ anything _ to Isak in his sleep – 

Suddenly, an image from the video flashes unbidden before Isak, only with the difference that now he’s the one lying asleep on his stomach on their bed, Even looming over him from behind, staring down at where he’s buried inside him –

He stiffens up against Even’s back, the hand lodged on Even’s stomach suddenly sweaty and unable to function. Not that he thinks Even meant anything with what he said, not that Isak actually  _ wants  _ him to mean anything with it.

It’s just a physical response, an automated fight-or-flight reaction from his very core that makes his ears pound and his mouth go dry.

“Are you okay?” Even turns half-way towards him, one hand still holding the spoon in the stew, one eyebrow raised in question. “You went so quiet – Isak?”

“Yeah.” Isak takes a deep breath, tries to snap out of this weird lockdown his body has suddenly imposed on him. “It’s – it’s fine. I just – I got something in my throat, I think.”

“Okay,” Even says, a tiny bite to his lip and a look that lingers a little too long, but he doesn’t push. Just strokes the back of his hand across Isak’s cheek and kisses his forehead swiftly, before he turns back to attend to the food.

Isak exhales.

Focuses on Even’s hands as he slides the pot to the side and pulls out the drawer to pick up the cutlery. Breathes in again, and tries to get back into the easy, light mood from a minute ago.

By the time Even sets the stew on the table, he’s almost succeeded.

And when they’ve finished dinner and moved to the couch, Even’s hands finding their way under Isak’s shirt, pushing it up until he can put his mouth on Isak’s nipples and continue downwards, everything’s more or less back to normal.

If it takes Isak a little longer than usual to fall asleep that night, it’s nothing he’s going to give any heavy importance. 

It’s not like he  _ needs  _ to think about that particular thing constantly, anyway.

  
  


2.

The next day, Isak wakes up in the same position as most mornings: on his side, with Even snuggled up against his back and Even’s arm around his waist. Even’s hard – nothing unusual about that either – his cock pressed against the small of Isak's back, and Isak keeps his eyes closed, feels the heaviness of Even’s arm around him, of Even’s breath tickling his neck.

Just like any other morning.

It’s heads or tails who wakes up first, honestly – sometimes it’s him, sometimes Even, and Isak likes both just as much.

Lying like this might be one of his favorite things; close to Even, his breath warm and soft on Isak’s neck, his heartbeat slow and steady against Isak’s back.

If Even would have been the first to wake today, he would probably have been out of bed by now. In the kitchen, making them breakfast. Coffee. Pancakes.

Or maybe, he would have woken Isak with warm hands and soft lips, turned him around and pressed their crotches together.

Isak can feel his cock give an interested twitch at the thought, and he presses the small of his back briefly against Even, feels how hard he is. Considers if he should wake Even in the same manner.

It’s just that – now that he thinks about it, memories of yesterday start floating up to the surface again. Maybe it’s his newly woken state, maybe it’s something else, but for the first time, Isak allows his thoughts to stray to  _ other things  _ that might have happened if he hadn’t been the first to wake today.

If Even had lain hard and awake with Isak still sleeping beside him.

Maybe Even would have pressed against him, just a little, by accident. 

Maybe Even would have liked it. Maybe he would have rubbed himself against Isak with a little more intent, just a tiny bit, because it felt good. 

Maybe he’d have done it again, and again. Let Isak’s body give him pleasure while Isak wouldn’t have the slightest idea.

Maybe Even’s cock would have slid in between Isak’s ass cheeks without Even intending to. Maybe the tip would have caught on Isak’s rim. 

Maybe Even would have liked it so much that he would’ve pushed his cock inside.

Like the beginning of that video.

Suddenly, Isak’s stomach pounds wildly, hot with blood. It’s only a fantasy, he  _ knows _ that, but the thought of Even inside of him while he’s still asleep – it heats his whole being with a desire that makes him feel dizzy, almost fevered.

_ Fuck. _

Normally, he would have turned around now, woken Even with slow kisses and then maybe proceeded to wrap his hand around the both of them. 

But not today. 

Today, he keeps his eyes closed and lies perfectly still. Feels the heat radiating from Even's body, his warm skin pressed against Isak. The weight of his arm around Isak's waist, how he sighs when Isak pushes back against his cock, just a little, pretending that it’s reversed, that he’s actually asleep and  _ Even  _ is the one who does it –

His pulse beats so wildly in his ears that he almost doesn’t notice at first that Even is waking up. Suddenly, Isak feels the arm around his waist tighten, Even breathing against his neck and whimpering softly as he rubs his cock against the small of Isak’s back. 

_ Did he notice that I’m awake – or did he not? _

He tries to act like he’s still asleep, so that he can at least  _ pretend _ that Even is having his way with him. Just a little. 

It’s silly and a bit embarrassing and  _ fuck _ , he doesn’t even know why the thought of Even doing things to him while he’s not even conscious to notice turns him on this much. 

“Good morning, babe.” The smile in Even’s newly woken voice is evident, and normally, his gravelly morning voice is Isak’s absolute favorite thing, the sound he wants to hear first in the morning, but today –

He can’t help but feel a tiny,  _ tiny _ bit disappointed.

Which is, of course, absolutely ridiculous.

He bites his lip and turns around, meets Even’s dry, chapped lips in a kiss that soon melts into tongue and teeth and pants, and it’s perfect.

_ Almost  _ perfect.

As Even’s hand slides along his waist and down to wrap around his cock, Isak pushes all  _ those  _ thoughts firmly and resolutely to the back of his mind once again.

It’s no use. Besides, it’s kinda… wrong, isn’t it? A moral grey zone, at least, and frankly, he’s not even sure he would want to put Even through having to consider all of that. 

He really should stop thinking about this altogether. Let it stay a fantasy, something he can entertain in solitude. 

It’s not like every single idea has to be acted upon, is it? And besides, this is probably one of those things that is better kept as a fantasy.

* * *

He can’t stop thinking about it.

Over the following week, he waits in vain for the thoughts to ebb out. Every time he pushes them down, however, he finds himself considering it from different angles just minutes later; pros and cons of bringing it out in the open, of letting Even in on his secret.

Suddenly, it’s all he ever thinks about, all he ever sees, like a Baader fucking Meinhof phenomenon pushing all sensible thoughts out of his head. Until that moment in the kitchen, this fantasy was doing fine and well in the dark corners of his mind – but now it’s suddenly on the loose, taking control of him in a way he’s not sure he’s completely comfortable with.

Is this even something he  _ does  _ want to go through with?

Because as much as the thought of Even really, actually doing things to him in his sleep makes him go hot all over, it’s also… a tiny bit scary.

Lying there completely out of it, with no control at all. Up for Even’s taking.

But that’s it, isn’t it? 

That feeling of not knowing, of waking up and having no idea what’s Even has done to him. The only evidence the feeling on his skin, in his ass, Even the only one aware of what really happened, not him –

_ Fuck. _

As the week progresses, he feels increasingly absent-minded. Every time the thought pops up in his head it wipes out everything else, leaving him silent and staring, unable to snap out of it, to the point where Even carefully asks him if he’s not sleeping again.

And well. He isn’t. 

Almost every morning, he wakes up before Even does. Far too early, always hard, always with that same desire pounding in his crotch, in his brain. And, when he senses that Even is starting to wake, he lies still and pretends to be asleep. Again.

As stupid as it is, he can’t help himself. Can’t help but hope to feel the same thing he did the other day – Even’s body pressed against him, hot and sweaty, Even’s cock hard against his back, hoping for him to rub it against him when he thinks Isak is asleep.

And every time he comes up short, bites his lip in defeat,  _ again, _ when Even kisses his ear and neck to wake him up.

It  _ is _ ridiculous. Absolutely moronic. Being  _ disappointed  _ at the fact that his boyfriend, the most wonderful person in the world, kisses him awake.

By the time Friday comes around, he’s realized that it’s time to make a decision. 

If not for his own sake, for Even’s. He really deserves better than this.

3.

He waits until the dishes are put away and Even’s sitting on the couch with a beer, flipping the remote in his hand and waiting for Isak to join him.

Isak wipes down the table slowly, drawing the seconds out. Having debated all day how to bring up the subject, he still isn’t sure – only knows that he has to say  _ something. _

Even turns his face up and smiles as Isak rounds the corner of the sofa. Holds out a beer for Isak with one arm and lodges the other on the back of the sofa for him to melt into.

“You wanna watch something?” Even asks. “Or… should we smoke?”

Isak bites his lip. As much as he could use some weed to take the edge off his nerves and loosen his tongue, this particular conversation definitely isn’t one to be had while high. 

No. For this, he has to stay sober. 

“Um, actually.” He picks at the label on the bottle with his index finger. “I – there’s something I’d like us to talk about first.”

“Okay,” Even says and straightens up a little, eyes trained on Isak’s face. 

“I –” Isak swallows, tips his chin down and averts his gaze to Even’s fingers, wrapped around his beer bottle. “Um.”

He tries to recall other times they’ve had similar conversations. Like that time Even blushingly brought up how he kinda wanted Isak to hold him down while fucking him, and how Isak had found it both hot and endearing. Not stupid at all, despite Even obviously having a hard time asking for it.

How hot it had been when they’d actually tried it, and how glad he was that Even had trusted him with it.

Tries to tell himself that this is kind of the same thing. Only a little more – well.  _ Out there. _

“Isak? Is – is something wrong?” 

Suddenly, there’s a small frown on Even’s forehead, and Isak realizes that he has to get a move on.

“No! No, nothing’s wrong. It’s just –” He tries to keep his gaze locked on Even’s, tries not to look away and chicken out, even if he kinda wants to run back out to the kitchen and just pretend that nothing has happened. “It’s just – something I want to try.”

“Okay,” Even repeats, the look in his eyes definitely more attentive than worried now. “Try what?”

“It’s something – in bed,” Isak says, quickly, and the smile spreading over Even’s face gives Isak a second’s reprieve, makes him able to breathe a little against the tightness in his chest.

He can only hope Even will look as enthusiastic when he’s told him.

“I,” he continues. “It might be a little – I don’t know. Weird.”

“Isak.” Even puts a hand on his knee, stroking his thumb along the inseam of Isak’s jeans. “I doubt I’ll find it weird whatever this is. It’s okay.”

Isak isn’t so sure about that, but he’s gone too far to back down now. 

“Okay.” He sits up straighter and inhales. “I just – I want you to know you can say no if you don’t want to try it.”

“I know that.” Even smiles, no doubt in encouragement, and he keeps caressing the inside of Isak’s knee, round circles with his thumb without stopping. “I promise I’ll say no if I don’t want it, just tell me.”

“Okay. So.” Isak swallows. “It’s kinda. I don’t even know if you’ve – heard of it. Or whatever.”

There’s a certain dark shade to Even’s eyes now, a curiosity, and it spurs Isak to continue.

“I – there’s this thing. Where –” he draws a deep breath, “where people. Or, you know, someone. Has sex with them while they’re sleeping.”

There. He said it.

Even’s eyes widen a little, but he doesn’t say anything right away, just scans Isak’s face up and down, as if he’s assessing if he’s serious. 

“You want to try that?” Even says, finally, lingering on each word.

“Um. Yeah.” Isak tries to quell the rise of panic in his chest, of the furious beating of his heart against the inside of his ribcage, so wild that he’s afraid it might pound through at any moment. “I mean. Only if you want to.”

“You – you want me to sleep? While –”

“No!” God, Isak is such an  _ idiot. _ He sighs. “No, of course not. I could never ask that of you, I – I mean that I want you to do it. To me.”

He watches Even’s eyes transform from slightly squinted to round, open and attentive. 

“Oh,” Even says, a hint of relief to his voice. “Okay. So – ”

His hand squeezes Isak’s knee a little tighter.

“– what is it that you would like me to do exactly?”

Isak shifts in his seat. Somehow, he didn’t really think  _ this  _ particular part of the conversation through. He’d just assumed that Even would either flat out refuse or say yes, and that that would be it.

Not that he doesn’t have an idea – he just didn’t expect to have to… say it out loud right away. 

“I don’t know? The usual?” 

“The usual?” Even’s eyebrows raise up in what looks like half-amusement, half-exasperation. “I think you’re gonna have to be more specific than that if I’m going to fuck you while you sleep, babe.”

Suddenly, Isak’s hot all over. 

It’s one thing to fantasize, but to hear Even say it out loud like this, as if it’s an actual possibility, is another. And the calm, matter-of-fact way he says it doesn’t help, either – as if he’s asking whether Isak wants to go grocery shopping before or after lunch, or how much milk he wants in his coffee.

“Um,” Isak says. “Uh. Yes. That’s what I want.” 

“For me to fuck you?” Even lifts his eyebrows, staring straight at Isak without a hint of laughter or derision. 

“Yeah.” Heart fluttering in his chest and blood pounding in his crotch, Isak knows, without a doubt.

That is exactly what he wants. 

“Okay,” Even says, but in a thoughtful, drawn-out manner that doesn’t sound like  _ fine, I’ll do it.  _ More like he’s considering it, but hasn’t decided yet.

“So,” Isak says, quickly, as if he somehow could make Even’s mind up to  _ yes _ if he talks fast enough. “You want to?”

“Well.” Even draws a deep breath, looking to the side, and for a second Isak can feel a cold trickle of embarrassment run down his spine. “I mean – I think so, but – “

Isak swallows. “But?” 

“Like, how am I supposed to – to know that I’m doing it right?” Even redirects his gaze to Isak’s eyes, seriousness written all over his face. “I mean, if you’re not awake to tell me. I don’t want to hurt you.”

Part of Isak wants to roll his eyes at him and huff – as if Even could  _ ever  _ do anything to him that he wouldn’t like or be comfortable with – but he gets it. 

It’s not exactly a small thing to ask of Even.

“I know you won’t,” Isak says, putting his hand on top of Even’s, trying for a smile. “I – I just want to, um. Feel that you’ve done… stuff. In the morning.”

His cheeks heat up a little at the admission, but Even just nods, all sobriety and blue, honest eyes. 

“So – you don’t want to wake up? During?” 

“I, uh – I don’t know?” He hasn’t really considered this particular detail, either –  _ shit, he really didn’t think this through _ – but when Even asks like this, he’s pretty sure. “I mean, it would probably be okay if… if I did, but –”

“You don’t want to know what I’ve done to you,” Even supplies helpfully, and Isak’s insides burn, white hot with want. 

“Yeah.” He breathes it out, pulse racing in his belly. 

Head tilted to the side, Even bites his lip and nods, fingers tapping the inseam of Isak’s jeans. “So – I know you’re a really heavy sleeper and all, baby, but – don’t you think you’ll wake up? At least when you come?” 

“I don’t need to come,” Isak blurts out, not knowing the absolute truth of it before it’s out of his mouth. “It’s okay – as long as you do.”

“Okay,” Even says, and that’s definitely interest on his face now, the tip of his tongue flicking over his canine for a short second before he grips Isak’s thigh tighter, straightening up a little where he sits. “So – it’s important? That I come?”

“Yes.” It’s instant, like a gut reaction. “I – I want to feel it. What you’ve done.”

“So – I take it you don’t want me to wear a condom, then?” Even says in that matter-of-fact tone again, and Isak feels like he’s going to die. His blood surges through him, up and down and back and forth as if it doesn’t know whether to pool in his face or in his crotch and it’s all he can do to sit upright.

Because, precisely  _ that  _ might be the thought that’s turned him on the most about this whole… arrangement. And, honestly, it  _ is _ kind of weird. Isn’t it? 

To get this mindlessly horny from the idea of waking up with come trickling out of his ass. Totally oblivious, feeling but not  _ knowing _ unless Even decides to tell him about it –

“No.” It’s not much more than a whisper, but Even hears it – it’s evident in the way he tilts his head to the side and smiles, eyes shining at Isak as he shuffles a little closer.

“Okay.” 

For a moment, everything’s silent, and Isak breathes through the tight feeling in his chest, the wait, the anticipation.

“Okay,” Even repeats, finally, and his voice is lower now, more gentle. “I can – I can try that.” 

A wave of relief runs through Isak’s limbs, and he looks up to meet Even’s gaze, lets out a breath he wasn’t aware he was holding. “Yeah?” 

“Yeah.” Even eases the grip he’s got on Isak’s leg, letting his fingers settle on the inseam of his jeans again. Taps it softly, small touches reverberating through Isak’s whole body. “There’s one thing I wonder, though.”

“Okay.” Isak’s pulse is tickling in his whole body now, like a firecracker gone wild, shooting sparks through his arms and legs and up his neck all at once. “What – what thing?”

Even’s fingers trail slightly upwards, squeezing Isak’s thigh before they continue, stopping dangerously close to Isak’s crotch. “Are you sure you don’t want to know what I’ve done? At all?”

Isak tries to consider it, tries to think through the insistent pounding of his pulse in his ears, through the surge in his stomach. 

The image of him waking alone in their bed in the morning, with Even already gone to work. Wet and loose and sore, without having the slightest idea how it happened –

_ Shit. _

On the other hand – Even telling him in the morning what he’s done to him, mumbling in Isak’s ear with his deep, dark voice, maybe working his cock as he talks –

Even’s fingers skate the fly of his jeans now, and just like that, Isak can’t take it any longer. He grabs on to Even’s wrist, hot and hard, and presses it against the bulge in his jeans. Lifts himself up towards it and looks Even straight in the eye. “I want you to tell me. In the morning.”

Even licks his lips, leaning closer, eyes widening as he lets Isak rub against his palm. Up and down, the fabric of Isak’s briefs sliding over the head of his cock, rough and smooth at the same time. “Hot.”

“Yeah.” Isak lets go, just enough to open his jeans and let Even slip his hand down into his underwear.

Even shuffles forward on his knees so that he ends up looming over Isak, one knee on the outside of his thigh, hand big and warm around his cock, palm sliding easily up and down from the wetness leaking onto it.

“You want it like this?” Even asks, voice dark and raspy. “You want me to tell you how good you look when you’re all – all asleep and... loose and ready for me?”

“Fuck.” Isak pants against the surge in his chest, can’t resist to push up into Even’s hand. “Yes. Fuck. Do it.”

“You want to know what it feels like when I’m inside of you?” Even’s mouth is so close to his ear that Isak can feel his breath on his skin, words heating him up inside and out. “How tight you are when you just lie there and take what I give you, fuck, Isak –”

Even’s voice stutters momentarily, a quick inhale as he twists his hand on the upstroke, and Isak closes his eyes. 

_ Fuck. _

“Yes. Fuck, Even, please – just do what you want to me.” He swallows, knows that he’s blabbering but can’t stop. “I want you to be rough with me, fuck me hard, I want to feel it –”

His words trail out into nothing when Even kisses the side of his neck, a wet sucking kiss that goes straight to Isak’s crotch and makes him grab onto Even’s wrist. Makes him push his cock into Even’s fist, once, twice, far too soon but without restraint.

The rush of his orgasm wells up and out of him in less than a second, one hand in Even’s hair and the other around his wrist, holding Even’s hand in place as he fucks into it, mindless and wanting.

This must be the quickest he’s come since, like, the first time they had sex, and he’d probably feel a little embarrassed about it if he wasn’t so relieved. 

Even kisses his ear, his cheek and his jaw while undoing his own pants somewhere in the periphery, panting heavily as Isak turns his face to meet his lips with his own.

The quick, wet slaps of Even’s hand working his cock echo in the silent room, mixes with the receding thumping of Isak’s pulse in his ears. A low groan into Isak’s mouth, and then his stomach turns warm from Even’s come, a noise that turns into a kiss as they both calm down, breathing into each other’s mouths.

A small laugh from Even before he starts peppering kisses over Isak’s cheek, eyes crinkling as he strokes Isak’s side with his still wet hand, and Isak can’t believe his luck.

Fuck. _ They’re really going to do this. _

Even if Even doubts that he’ll be able to fulfill Isak’s wishes, Isak is sure. Absolutely sure. 

It’ll be perfect.

4.

Isak’s whole body feels like lead when he wakes the next day.

On his stomach, as usual, melted into the mattress with his face turned to the side, body heavy like it only is after a long, good night’s sleep. 

When he opens his eyes, he sees that It's light outside; sunlight seeps in through the curtains, painting the room in a pale golden shade. Even’s not in the bed, but there are soft clinking sounds coming from somewhere in the apartment. Probably the kitchen.

Isak smiles to himself at the sound. At the image of Even making them breakfast, pottering about frying eggs and making coffee.

Then, thoughts of last night start to trickle up to the surface of his sleep-muddled mind – and suddenly, he’s wide awake.

Everything they talked about as they sat on the couch for a long while after Isak’s confession. Kissing, holding each other, talking the whole thing through. Meticulously listing the things Isak wanted, and how much Even was willing to give him.

He’d gone to bed naked with the lava lamp on, just like they’d talked about. Thinking that  _ maybe _ it would be too soon, just hours after – but he had been too caught up and too eager to resist.

And Even  _ had _ strayed behind in the bathroom after they’d brushed their teeth, as if he wanted to give Isak the space and the chance. 

Isak can’t resist shifting a little on the bed to see if it happened. 

Moves one leg out to the side, just to try it out.

There’s a sticky feeling on the small of his back, as if something’s dried up there, making his skin stretch in a not quite comfortable way, but apart from that –

He rolls over on his side, stretching his legs further, and still.

Nothing more.

The fact that Even obviously must have come over his back is enough to make his pulse race, and still, he can’t help but feel a little disgruntled.

He  _ knows _ that it was a lot to ask from Even, and still. He’d hoped so bad, and now, as he carefully slips his fingers down between his legs, there’s – nothing.

Maybe it was too much, after all.

Suddenly, there’s the soft sound of Even’s footsteps approaching, and then the bed dips down behind him, a hand on his hip.

“Isak? Are you awake?” 

Isak doesn’t miss the slightly nervous urgency in Even’s whisper. As if he’s waited anxiously for Isak to wake up, listened so closely for sounds from the bedroom that he’s heard Isak shift on the bed.

“Uh. Yeah.” He rolls over to face Even. Stretches out his arm for him, determined to not let his disappointment show in his movements or on his face.

It definitely  _ was _ a lot to ask.

“I –” Even’s attempt at speaking cuts short as Isak pulls him down for a kiss.

He’s  _ not _ going to pressure Even about this. Never.

However, their mouths only press together swiftly before Even pulls back, watching him with an apprehensive bite to his lip.

“I’m sorry,” Even says, looking down at the bed and then back up to Isak’s face. “I – fuck, I really wanted to do it, but – I’m so sorry.”

“Don’t be sorry,” Isak whispers, quickly. “It’s okay, it’s not that important, I promise –”

“But I know how much you want this.” Even’s scooted up the bed now, lying beside him with a hand on his shoulder, stroking his thumb over the sleep-warm skin there. “And we decided and all. But it – fuck Isak, it just felt so weird. I’m sorry.”

“It’s okay. I  _ promise.”  _ Isak pulls at the duvet so that he can wrap it around them both, pull Even into the warm cocoon underneath. Of course it’s okay. It has to be. “It’s not like we  _ have _ to do it just because we talked about it, and we both need to be okay with it, you know that –”

“Yeah. I know.” The cool tip of Even’s nose is buried in Isak’s neck now, his voice a deep rumble at the point of his jugular, and Isak’s heart beats fast, faster.

“You came on me, though.” He smiles into Even’s hair.

Even’s fingers trail down Isak’s naked side, over his hip and down to the small of his back, and the curl of his lips is evident in how his eyes crinkle in the periphery of Isak’s vision. “I did.”

“That’s – that’s really hot.” Isak presses a little closer, lets his hips align with Even’s side.

Even if he’d, well – wished for more, the thought of Even touching himself next to him, getting off with Isak lying there asleep without any idea of what was going on, of Even working his cock behind him, panting into his neck and coming while he was too out of it to notice – it’s definitely enough to make Isak’s cock go from morning thick to fully hard, enough to make his pulse pick up pace and his stomach swirl.

“It was,” Even admits, pulling Isak in with the hand resting on his lower back, their hips flush together. “A little – a little strange. But hot.”

With a pleasant tingle up his spine, Isak notices how Even is just as hard as he is.

“Do you want me to tell you about it?” Even whispers, teeth sliding over Isak’s neck, a shudder shooting down all the way to his toes, and – yeah.

This might be good enough. 

It  _ definitely _ might.

* * *

They spend the day downtown, first buying new sneakers for Isak, then strolling down the sunny streets of Løkka. Just like any other Saturday, walking hand in hand, window shopping, talking. Light-hearted and easy, as always, but with a kind of edge to it that Isak can’t put his finger on.

Even if things didn’t turn out the way that Isak had hoped for, what he had  _ wanted,  _ this morning had been... hot. Amazing, even. 

The memory of Even getting him off with his hand while murmuring in his ear how Isak had lain there, all heavy and sleeping in the warm red light of the lamp, while Even had knelt on the bed behind him and come all over his back – it’s still enough to make Isak squirm a little.

It  _ could _ be enough. It really should be.

Even’s already fulfilled part of his fantasy, and Isak loves him for it – so fucking much – and still, he can’t help but wish for more.  _ Still.  _ He’s really done his best not to let it show, but there's still this kind of ambiance lingering between them.

As if they're both thinking about the fact that Even couldn’t go through with their agreement, despite Isak repeatedly assuring him that it was okay.

It’s in the way Even looks at him from out of the corner of his eye in a way he usually doesn’t. How he licks his lips and swallows now and then, as if he wants to say something but stops himself at the last second. 

They didn’t talk about trying again afterwards, and Isak really doesn’t want the one to bring it up. Even has done so much already, and if it’s everything he’ll get from this – well, so be it.

He just really hopes his disappointment doesn’t show.

* * *

That strange, expectant feeling follows them around all afternoon – around the second hand shops and on the tram, through the aisles of the grocery store and up the stairs to their apartment. 

As Even puts the key in the lock, giving Isak a kind of hesitant sideways glance that Isak isn’t sure how to interpret, he feels his stomach make an unpleasant lurch.

They should probably talk about this again. He’s quite sure that Even agrees from how he’s been acting all day – as if there’s something Even wants to say to him, but doesn’t know how to articulate.

Part of Isak can’t wait to clear this out, even if he’s kind of nervous to hear what it might be that Even has to say. Even though he’s got a pretty solid feeling that Even did like what happened very much, he can’t be  _ sure. _

Maybe Even’s just realized that this really isn’t for him. 

When they’ve made it inside, hung up their coats and put the groceries away, Even stands still in the doorway to the kitchen, once again glancing at Isak like he’s done all afternoon.

Even if Isak is about to crawl out of his skin from waiting, he really doesn’t want to push.

So he leans against the kitchen counter, debating whether he should keep standing here until Even finally gets a move on or if he should start dinner. 

And then, Even clears his throat and straightens up a little.

“Um,” Even says, looking up at Isak with a tentative smile. “I’ve kinda – I’ve been thinking.”

Isak keeps still, holding on to the counter with one hand. “Yeah?”

“You know, about this morning. And all that.” Even’s foot taps lightly against the floor. “And I – I really want to try. Again.”

“You do?” The sound of Isak’s heart thumping in his chest is so loud in his ears that he has a hard time believing it doesn’t echo out in the room. “Like –”

“But I’m still really not sure how to – how to do it right,” Even interrupts him as if this is something he’s repeated to himself over and over, like a speech. “And so I – I have a… a suggestion.”

“A suggestion?”

“Yeah.” Even bites his lip, glancing up at Isak with a look that’s equally flustered and excited. “What if we could, you know. Practice?”

“Practice?” He’s aware that he’s parroting Even, but right now, Isak isn’t sure what to say, or to think.

Even swallows, rubs his toe against the stain on the threshold that’s been there since they moved in. 

“If we decided – if we decide on one night, and you go to bed.“ Even looks up and licks his lips. “And act like you’re asleep while I… Like, you just lie there. And pretend.”

Isak straightens up a little.  _ Pretend? _

“So you’d be conscious enough to tell me if – if you want me to stop. But – I’d act like… like it was the real thing.”

“Fuck. You want that?” 

Even if it isn’t exactly what Isak had in mind, he has to admit that it sounds kinda… interesting.

“So… I’m just gonna lie there and… pretend that I’m sleeping?”

Even nods, all eager eyes and parted lips.

“And you – you can do what you want with me.”

It’s not a question, but Even nods again anyway. 

“If you promise that you’ll tell me if it doesn’t feel good. Or if I do something you wouldn’t like when you… if you were sleeping.” Even’s cheeks look a little flushed now, his fingers picking at the seam of his t-shirt.

“Would you – would you do that?” Warmth spreads from the pit of Isak’s stomach throughout his limbs. “I – I don’t want you to feel pressured into doing this. Or whatever.”

“Isak.” Even takes a step towards him, holding out his hand for Isak to take. “It’s – I mean, I wouldn’t suggest this if it wasn’t your idea to begin with, but I mean. It  _ is _ hot. It’s not like I would suffer from it. As long as you like it.”

“I’m gonna like it.” The words fall out of Isak’s mouth without any afterthought. “I know I will.”

“Okay.” Even’s eyes glitter as he squeezes Isak’s hand. “Let’s try that, then.”

“Okay.” Isak exhales, relief and elation running through him in equal parts. 

“Tonight?” Even’s eyebrows lift up, chin tipped down and and that stray lock of hair falling over his forehead, and fuck. Isak loves him so much.

He nods, squeezing Even’s hand back, smiling. “Tonight.”

5.

Three hours later, Isak is alone in bed again. 

On his stomach, freshly showered, every bone in his body vibrating with expectancy.

Even’s still in the bathroom, Isak can hear the pipes clunk as the water is turned on and off. Maybe he’s taking a shower, maybe that's what’s taking so long. 

For a quick second, he wonders what Even will see when he finally enters the room. What his own skin will look like in the red light from the lava lamp.

What words Even will use when he describes it to Isak later.

He tries to take deep, calm breaths, tries to will his body into a relaxed, sleepy state. Focuses on how his limbs rest heavy on the soft mattress, how warm and soft the duvet feels on his skin. 

Reminds himself that he doesn’t have to do anything except lie here and let Even take charge. Let Even do whatever he wants to. In his own pace.

Isak can feel himself start to grow hard against the mattress from the thought alone.

_ Practice. _

However strange it had sounded when Even first suggested it, Isak has to admit that this doesn’t feel too bad. Not at all.

Partly because Even needs this, and Isak wants him to feel comfortable about everything. Of course he does.

But – this  _ is _ also kind of a big deal, and perhaps a part of Isak feels an ounce of relief that they’re starting off with a... tryout. 

Not that he has any doubt that he’ll like it, but. Still.

He shifts again, can’t keep from adjusting the pillow so that it fits perfectly underneath him.

Eventually, he hears Even’s soft footfalls along the hallway, and then the door to the bedroom opens. Isak remains absolutely motionless, acutely aware of every small noise Even makes as he moves around their bedroom. Hanging his towel on the chair, putting his phone on charge, as he always does. 

As if this is a completely ordinary evening. 

As if every centimeter of Isak’s skin isn’t buzzing with electricity. Rock hard and mouth dry, trying to breathe evenly through his nose. In and out.

To his left, he hears Even open the bedside drawer and pick something up, and Isak knows what it is without even having to think. 

_ The lube. _

He’d debated whether he wanted to prep himself beforehand or if he wanted Even to do it. Honestly, he could see the appeal of both.

Of lying here sleeping and ready, already wet and open for Even to just  _ use.  _

But, on the other hand, when he does wake up he wants everything he feels to be because of Even. Because of what Even’s done to him when he wasn’t aware.

So in the end he’d settled for only taking a shower and letting Even handle it all.

The bed dips as Even lies down and settles next to him underneath the duvet. Even sighs a little as his hand comes to rest on Isak's back, like he always does. 

And then, Even just lies there. Silent and unmoving, as if he's going to sleep too. 

It takes everything in Isak's power to not push back against Even, like he normally would.

Like he would if he was awake.

But he  _ isn’t.  _ So he doesn’t move. Tries to keep his breathing calm and steady even though his heart is racing.

It can’t be more than a minute that they lie there, breathing, but to Isak, it could very well be an hour.

And then, finally, Even presses a featherlight kiss to his shoulder.

As if he’s checking that Isak is indeed asleep.

Eyes closed, Isak makes sure to not react in the slightest. Just remains unmoving and lets Even’s breath tickle his skin.

Another, slightly firmer kiss, and then the warmth of Even’s body disappears, the mattress heaving a little as Even sits up and carefully shuffles down to the foot of the bed. 

Pulse throbbing in his stomach, Isak feels how the duvet is slowly lifted from his feet, then his legs, and eventually, his ass.

His upper back and shoulders are still covered, however – and somehow, it makes this even hotter. Knowing that Even can only see the lower part of his body, that it doesn’t matter how his face looks because Isak’s not going to be conscious anyway –

It’s perfect.

Anticipation sizzles through him as Even puts his hands on the backs of Isak’s thighs and very gently pushes them apart. His huge, warm hands that know every part of Isak’s body, spreading him open.

He’s very aware that this is one of Even’s biggest turn-ons; watching him, seeing him on display like this. Opening Isak up while looking. Any other day, Isak would tease him about it, roll his eyes into the pillow and ask Even to hurry the fuck up. But not today.

Today, he has no choice but to wait for Even to give it to him in whatever pace and way he pleases. 

The mattress sways again as Even stretches for something higher up on the bed – the lube, no doubt – and, on the way, he bends down and kisses Isak’s shoulder. Then, he settles between Isak’s thighs once more, places a hand in the hollow of one of Isak’s knees and slowly pushes his leg upwards, out to the side.

Placing Isak in the position he always lies in when he’s sleeping.

Isak can hear his own heartbeat in his ears, can already feel his cock pulse against the sheet and  _ god, _ they’ve barely begun. He tries to relax, tries to narrow his focus down to where Even is touching him. 

Right now, Even’s big hands are covering Isak’s ass cheeks, spreading him open, thumbs smoothly sliding along his cleft. Up, then down again, and Isak’s face feels hot against the pillow.

He can almost feel Even’s gaze on his skin.

Then, Even lets go with one hand, and Isak hears the tell-tale click of the lube being opened. 

Seconds later there’s a wet, slippery finger gently stroking Isak’s rim, and he holds his breath for a second.  _ It’s happening. _

Even must have noticed the sudden change in Isak’s posture, because suddenly there’s a hand stroking up and down his side, a hushed  _ shh _ coming from the foot of the bed. 

_ Fuck.  _

As Isak manages to get his breathing under control again, the finger on his rim starts circling, while the other hand returns to Isak’s ass cheek, pulling it to the side.

Holding him open.

Isak does his best to keep absolutely still as one finger strokes his hole and presses softly. And then, excruciatingly slowly, Even slides the tip of his finger inside. Much gentler than he normally would, and while it makes Isak so impatient he can barely breathe, it also makes his heart pick up additional speed.

Because there’s no doubt Even is being this careful only because he doesn’t want him to wake up. 

The familiar pressure of Even’s finger entering him helps him relax a little; an automated response to something he’s been through hundreds of times, his body preparing for what it knows will come next without assistance.

Most days, he’d push back, lift his ass up to show Even how much he wants it, that Even can go faster. That it’s right.

Now, however, it’s all he can do to let Even glide inside all by himself, cautiously pressing his finger all the way in until knuckles meet skin, Even’s other hand still holding him open.

It’s soft and gentle, not burning at all, and part of Isak wants to remind Even that he  _ told _ him to be as rough with him as he wants, that Isak wants to be able to feel  _ everything _ afterwards – but, as it is, he can’t.

He directs his attention to his other senses instead. On what he can hear: Even’s breathing, a little heavier than just minutes ago, the soft squelch of his wet finger sliding out of Isak, then in again, the muffled sounds of traffic on the street outside.

Apart from that, it’s quiet. 

Just as silent as it would be in the middle of the night.

He can feel Even shift on the bed behind him, feels him adjust his grip on Isak’s ass so that he holds both cheeks apart with one hand; one with his thumb, the other with his other fingers.

Even’s strong, big hands. Larger than anyone else’s, and Isak tries to picture how they look right now; long knuckled fingers spreading him, opening him, stretching him. 

All the while, Even keeps working his finger in and out until it’s gliding smoothly, and a familiar need for more starts to build in Isak’s stomach. He knows Even feels it too; knows that Even normally wouldn’t hesitate to push another finger inside pretty quickly, fully aware of what pace Isak likes and can take.

Now, however, the second finger only skates Isak’s rim tentatively, almost like an afterthought. Pressing lightly once, twice, three times, making Isak’s whole body tense with impatience, making him want to push back against it and help pull Even inside.

Isak isn’t sure if the slow pace Even’s setting stems from apprehension, if it’s teasing, or if Even’s so enthralled by the sight and situation that he simply isn’t aware of it. 

Either way, Isak stays where he is. Unmoving and quiet.  _ Sleeping.  _

And then, just like that, Even slowly eases two long fingers all the way inside. 

An unhurried but determined slide that punches a small noise out of Isak, something between a whine and a groan, and Even stills for a second. Fingers buried to the hilt inside Isak, he leans forward and strokes Isak's hair with his other hand. Hushes him, and it’s so hot and so perfect that Isak almost can’t keep from shaking. 

His blood runs hot in his veins and his skin feels so tight, cock weeping against the sheets as Even kisses his shoulder and hums. Soft lips and warm breath, and then Even shuffles down again, fingers unmoving inside him. Making space, stretching Isak in a way that isn’t uncomfortable but definitely intense. 

Gently, Even’s warm palm slides up to the small of his back, resting there as Even pulls his fingers out carefully and works them inside again. As if he’s assessing Isak’s state of relaxation with his palm, ensuring that he’ll feel it if Isak would stir or tense up.

For a second, Even’s fingers press down inside, brushing over his prostate, and Isak does his very best not to draw his breath too sharply. 

He’s never been aware before of how many sounds he usually must be letting out when Even’s touching him. Has never thought about how his instinct is to keen against Even’s touch, to show Even with his body and his voice how good and right it feels. But now, when he  _ has  _ to hold back, it’s obvious.

And he realizes, a little better now, where Even’s reluctance to take this all the way must stem from. How used he must be to Isak’s responsiveness, the same way that Isak probably is to Even’s without ever giving it any thought.

And precisely that is why he can’t make a single sound, or move in the slightest. Since Even  _ knows _ that, under this pretence, Isak really is awake and enjoying every second of this, he can rest assured that this is exactly what Isak wants.

That, as long as Isak doesn’t tell him otherwise, he should continue.

Isak can feel himself start to loosen around Even’s fingers once more, can feel how the resistance gradually gives way to an effortless slide. 

It doesn’t take long until Even slides the hand on his back down to his ass cheek again, pulling it to the side. Isak’s spine tickles from the knowledge that Even does this merely because he likes to look. Because he wants to watch how Isak’s rim stretches around his fingers as he pulls them out, how open and ready he is.

And also because Even is aware how much him looking turns Isak on.

As much as it made Isak squirm a little in the beginning of their relationship, made him reach back to slap Even’s arm and tell him to stop perving more often than not, he can’t deny that he’s come to enjoy this inclination of Even’s quite a lot.

And tonight, Even can take his time with it without Isak having the slightest say.

As Even slowly removes his fingers and twists them carefully on the way out, Isak’s cock twitches against the mattress. Not only because he knows what Even must be seeing, but also because this is the point where Even’s fingers usually will be replaced by his cock.

Pushing into him, filling him up. Stretching him out so that he’ll feel it tomorrow. 

Sure enough, Even lets go of him, and then shuffles around a little bit by the foot of the bed. The click of the lube again, and then the slick sound of what no doubt must be Even coating his own cock with it.

Once again, Isak has to fight the instinct to lift his ass up and spur Even on. He resists the temptation to press his leaking cock into the sheet, to rub against it – just breathes as evenly as he can and keeps his eyes closed.

Waits for the blunt pressure of Even’s cock against his hole.

For a few seconds, everything’s quiet. 

Then, Even places his hands on the back of his thighs; warm, soft palms stroking them up and down and then up again, thumbs firm on the insides.

Isak’s stomach beats hot with desire as Even’s thumbs near his taint, pressing with intent, sliding up between his cheeks. He breathes heavily into the pillow as Even holds him open with both palms, thumbs pulling at his rim, stretching him out. 

Holding still for five seconds, ten, twenty, Even breathing heavily behind him. Watching.

As if Even’s showing him what he’s going to do to Isak when he’s actually sleeping. As if Even’s reminding him that he’s literally in Even’s hands, with no choice but to accept what Even decides to do to him.

He isn’t used to submitting like this, hasn’t ever thought that he’d enjoy it particularly, but lying here like this, up for Even’s taking –

It’s just how he wanted it to be.

As much as he appreciates Even’s efforts to go slow, to not break the illusion and do something that might wake him up, he can’t help but wish that Even would be a little more rough with him. 

For example, if Even would push both his thumbs inside Isak right now without hesitating. Fast and hard.

He can feel his rim twitch between the pads of Even’s thumbs at the thought, can feel his cock push out a bead of precome into the sheet, and he has to press down an involuntary noise from escaping his throat. 

_ Fuck. _

Slowly, Even’s thumbs let up slightly – slide further out to the sides, letting Even shuffle closer and sit on the back of Isak’s stretched-out thigh.

And then, finally,  _ finally, _ there’s the pressure of the tip of his cock against Isak’s hole.

Rubbing a little, back and forth, lighting Isak up from the inside, tightening his stomach into a hard coil of anticipation and want. Tip wet and slippery, catching on Isak’s rim, then nudging at it with more intent. 

Still holding him apart with both hands, Even sinks inside slowly, the stretch making Isak bite his lip and press his forehead into the pillow. 

His upper body’s still covered by the duvet, and he hopes it’s shielding his face as well. Hopes that it hides the blush that must be showing on his cheeks. Hopes that Even can’t see him squeezing his eyes shut against the encompassing pressure of him pushing inside. Slow and controlled but unrelenting, not stopping until he’s sunk all the way in, hips flush against Isak’s skin, hands still firm on the top of his ass, keeping him in place.

Under normal circumstances, this would be where Even would stroke Isak’s back and squeeze his side to distract him, prevent him from feeling overwhelmed. Where he’d bend forward and ask in a whisper if Isak’s okay.

But, as it is, Even doesn’t.

Even stays where he is instead, lodged deep inside Isak, breathing, hands gently sliding up to Isak’s hips. And then, slowly, slowly, Isak feels the duvet being lifted from his back and out to the side.

The air in the room isn’t chilly, but he can still feel the tickling surge of goosebumps rising across his back. 

Like this, he knows that Even can see  _ everything.  _ All of his body on display, every centimeter of skin, the side of his face as he’s lying here and doing his best not to break the illusion for even a fraction of a second.

He understands that Even probably needs to see all of him to dare to really fuck him, to give Isak what he’s asked for – and the realization that it’s most probably about to happen, that he’s going to get his wish fulfilled, sends shivers running down his arms.

A hand strokes his side, gently, Even’s body warmth slowly spreading over his back as he leans over him and kisses his neck. Silent, soft lips at the nape, warm breath in his hair.

Isak tries to keep his breathing under control as Even slowly rises up again. The weight of his hands make the bed dip on either side, the sounds of his breaths slowly receding as he straightens up to sit back on Isak’s thigh again. Still buried inside him, Even hitches Isak’s bent leg up a little further, the stretch not uncomfortable but definitely enough to spread him as open as this position allows. 

His heart flutters high in his throat as Even pulls out, just a little, only to push back in with a short, half-aborted thrust. Not forceful, but hard enough to push Isak into the mattress and leave him breathless for a second.

And then, Even does it again. And again. He doesn’t give Isak even a second’s reprieve, just starts fucking him the way Isak knows he likes it the best; deep and hard and slow, and Isak can barely breathe from how hot it is. He parts his lips, needs to breathe through his mouth; head spinning from the sudden lack of oxygen in his lungs, from the way each thrust punches all air out of his chest, making him huff involuntarily into the pillow. 

He’s pretty certain that he’d never be able to sleep through getting fucked like this – can’t imagine that he wouldn’t wake up from the force with which Even is slamming into him, from the loud slaps of skin on skin, from the way his face and chest rub roughly against the bed. And he’s sure Even knows it, too.

But that’s not the point here.

The point is that Even has understood exactly what he’s supposed to do. That precisely  _ this _ is what turns Isak on the most: for Even to just take what he wants, use Isak’s body as he pleases without the least concern about Isak’s pleasure. 

Isak’s cock lies trapped between his stomach and the bedding, occasionally getting some friction at a particularly hard thrust – not at all enough to make Isak tip over the edge, but with the promise of it. He wills himself not to arch his back and try to make Even hit that spot inside. Even’s cock does brush over it sporadically, but there’s no intention behind it, not like there normally would be. Right now, Even’s not even trying to make him come, he’s just making himself feel good.

That thought alone pushes another bead of precome out of Isak’s cock. 

Even’s not normally into taking control in bed like this, isn’t particularly prone to dominating Isak or fucking him roughly – but now, he’s obviously willing to do so. For Isak’s sake, asleep or not.

And it’s  _ perfect.  _

He wonders for a moment if Even is going to make him come, too. In a way, he hopes not. Hopes that Even will see this to the end and keep the pretence up until it’s over. That Even will just take what he wants, come inside him and leave him there, asleep and unknowing, sore and full of come. 

Isak can hear Even’s wet, ragged pants behind him, warm air brushing over Isak’s skin as he leans forward. Even must be getting close now – his breathing is more shallow, and his thrusts are harder, less coordinated and controlled. So rough that every shove pushes Isak a little up the bed, away from Even with thin, punctuated whimpers.

Even must notice how Isak’s moving away from him, because he shifts a little to rise up, placing a hand on Isak’s upper back and pressing down slightly. A steady weight, a reminder that Even is the one in control here, not him.

A shiver runs over Isak’s skin from the thought, from how Even’s hand lies splayed out between his shoulder blades. Large, strong, and unyielding.

And then, Even moves it upwards – lets it slide across Isak’s sweat-slick skin, up the column of his spine and to the back of his neck. 

Gripping it gently. Not pushing or forcing, not enough to make Isak feel uncomfortable or out of breath, but firm. Resolute, and despite the weight holding him down, Isak feels like he’s floating.

This isn’t something Even usually does to him – it’s mostly been the other way around when it’s happened, Isak holding Even down by the neck and fucking him fast and hard – but at this moment, it’s absolutely flawless. 

So hot that Isak’s toes curl up and his head spins with desire, and part of him wants to push up against Even’s hand to see how much force that lies behind his grip. 

To find out if Even would press down harder, fuck him even rougher. 

But Isak doesn’t. Of course he doesn’t. He just lies there and takes it, cock weeping against the mattress and stomach on fire while Even keeps fucking into him.

Just as roughly as Isak dreamed of. Hard and decisive, clear purpose behind it now. Isak’s not sure Even’s ever been this deep inside of him, can’t remember that he ever felt so  _ filled up  _ before.

He’s so fucking close and yet not at all when Even comes; movements stuttering for second before the grip on the back of Isak’s neck tightens, coupled with a deep, drawn-out moan.

Isak keeps his eyes shut, tries to imagine that he can feel Even shoot inside him. That the heat he feels is Even’s come filling him up, and it makes him shiver, makes goosebumps break out all over his skin. 

If the shiver makes him move accidentally, Even doesn’t seem to take any notice. He’s still riding the last waves of his high, still fucking into Isak, and it’s wetter and sloppier than before, soft squelching sounds echoing in the room with every push inside. 

When Even finally slows down, Isak’s groin is starting to ache where his leg’s been hitched up. He must have been too far gone to notice, but now that Even’s still, Isak can feel how sore he is.

Just like he’s dreamed of. 

Slowly, Even lies down on top of him, but he doesn’t pull out right away, like he normally would. Just breathes onto Isak’s skin and kisses his shoulder gently. Lets up the grip on Isak’s neck, transforming it into a soft caress across his back.

Even’s fingers stroke his hair as he finally pulls out. Slowly, carefully, and Isak feels so open, so wet and loose, barely able to hold back a whine from how empty he feels.

The bed dips as Even turns and stretches for something –  _ the toilet paper _ – a quiet rustle behind him as Even cleans himself up. Then, he lies back down, gently rolling Isak up on his side and pulling him in, so that Even holds him from behind, big spoon slotted into Isak like a puzzle piece. 

And then, finally, Even pulls the cover over them both, all the way up to their shoulders. 

Like he always does when he’s about to go to sleep.

Even lies still, nose nuzzled into Isak’s hairline, arm around Isak’s chest, warm, slow breaths caressing his neck.

As if he’s actually going to go to sleep, as if he’s not going to do anything else about this. Just let Isak wait until morning to find out what’s happened to him, let him lie here unknowing, fucked out and full of come.

Isak's heart is still beating frantically inside his chest, so loud that he’s sure Even has to  _ hear  _ it. Stomach tightly coiled, he tenses up as something warm and wet trickles out of his ass. 

He’s so raw, so perfectly used, and he can’t believe how Even just fucked him the way  _ he _ wanted and then pretended to just go to sleep. 

His cock isn’t trapped between his body and the mattress anymore that he’s lying on his side, but still so hard that it almost hurts – and for a second, he wonders if Even really  _ is _ going to fall asleep. If he’s going to leave him like this for real.

Isak has to bite back a whine at the thought – not really sure if it is from how perfect this is, how it’s all he asked for, or if it’s from desperation to get off. As another drop of come slowly leaks out of him, he shifts his leg forward, just a tiny bit. 

The tip of Even’s nose nudges his hair in response, hand slowly sliding across Isak’s chest. 

“Good morning, baby.” Even’s voice is colored by a smile bordering on a chuckle. “Did you sleep well?”

“Even.” Isak can’t hold back the sigh of relief that escapes him when Even tightens the arm around his chest. “Fuck.”

A warm, soft kiss on the back of his neck. “Was it good?” 

“So good. Fuck, Even –” Isak inhales sharply as Even’s thumb catches on his nipple, flicking it back and forward once. “You’re – please.”

He isn’t sure exactly what he’s asking for, only that he’s so turned on that he can barely string two words together. That he only wants Even to touch him in one way or another that will finally get him off, give him the release he’s ached for for hours, days,  _ weeks. _

“You want me to tell you what I did?” The deep rasp of Even’s voice vibrates on Isak’s neck, travels through his chest and down to his crotch and makes his cock pulse with desperation. “How lovely you looked when I came in here last night and you lay all asleep and waiting?”

“Yes. Fuck –” 

Isak’s breath hitches in his throat as Even’s hand travels down his side and squeezes his hip. 

“How hard I got when I lifted the duvet and saw you naked, all sleeping and ready for me?” 

Even’s fully aware how powerless Isak is to this kind of talk, and now, body strung tight from impatience, Isak feels like he’s gonna lose his mind. Can’t wait for Even to touch him, wrap his hand around him,  _ anything. _

“How it felt to push my fingers inside you, how tight and warm your ass was when you lay there all unconscious?” Even’s fingers are on the back of his thigh now, stroking down and up, close to his rim, and Isak parts his legs without thinking, feels his ass cheeks slide wetly against each other with the leaked out come and leftover lube. “How it looked when I held it apart with my hands and stretched you open?”

The fingers trace Isak’s crack now, slide over the wetness there, and even if he’s kind of sore, it’s so enticing that Isak has to let out a loud whine, has to push back against Even now that he’s finally allowed to. 

“I’m gonna tell you what I did. I opened you up all the way when you lay there,” Even continues, the pads of his fingers resting against his hole, and Isak’s head spins as he pants into the pillow, pulls his knee up to give Even access and waits for what he hopes will come. “And then I fucked you.”

And just like that, in one swift but controlled movement, Even pushes two fingers all the way inside.

It’s definitely close to being too much, but still on the right side; wet and messy, and Isak’s brain shortcuts completely. All kinds of sounds spill out of him; he’s half moaning, half whining, but Even just holds him tighter, hushes him and keeps his hand still, lets Isak feel how raw and used he is.

“Look at how open you are, baby. Even though it’s been hours.” Even kisses his hair before he carefully pulls his fingers out, come and lube leaking out onto Isak’s skin, and Isak groans, hand searching behind him for Even’s neck, shoulder, anything.

A low, rough sound that’s pulled out from deep inside, repeated when Even sneaks his hand down his front and wraps his slicked-up fingers around Isak’s cock.

A firm, strong grip, not meant to tease or draw things out, only right and filthy and so, so good.

“I fucked you so hard, and you weren’t even awake to feel it,” Even whispers, hand moving up and down in a steady rhythm. “But you feel it now, don’t you?”

“Yes. Fuck, Even, I –” Isak moans and pushes his hips forward, a slick, wet slide into Even’s fist, making his stomach tighten into a white-hot coil. 

“You were so fucking hot when you lay there.” Even’s breath is warm on his neck, his grip tight, and Isak knows he’s not going to last much longer.

The contrast between Even’s raspy words, his filthy fingers and the gentle, almost reverent way he kisses Isak’s jaw and neck makes Isak bite his lip and moan. Makes him fuck into Even’s fist, mindless and wanting now that he’s finally allowed to move, to make the noises his instinct tells him to.

“And fuck, Isak.” Even’s hand grips him tighter now, barely moves, only lets Isak get himself off, racing towards his release with his heart thumping in his chest. “When I came inside you, you didn’t make a sound – you just let me fill you with my come, all the way deep down, fuck –”

And the memory of Even coming inside him without a care for Isak’s well-being, of the hand around his neck, of Even’s groan as he pushed as far inside as he could get, is what finally makes Isak fall over the edge. 

Pulse roaring in his ears, he hears a faint echo of himself moaning and panting; hips working forward and back of their own accord, only chasing, chasing, trying to ride the edge of his orgasm for as long as possible and milk every last drop out.

Distantly, he registers Even’s cock pressing against the small of his back; he’s half-hard again, placing soft sucking kisses to Isak’s neck, just where Isak loves it the most, hand tight around Isak’s cock.

Until finally, the last shivers of pleasure run through him, a heavy, exhausted feeling settling in his bones as he lies back against Even, against his warm, sweaty chest, his safe, strong arms, wrapping around Isak’s chest and holding him softly.

“Baby,” Even whispers. “Isak.”

Isak can barely think of anything to answer in return, only lets his head fall back onto the pillow and turns his face towards Even, weakly trying to reach his mouth for a kiss.

Even closes the distance for him, leans over him and catches his lips with his own. A slow, wet, off-angle kiss that’s more mouths moving against each other than something actually coordinated, but so right. 

“Thank you,” Isak mumbles into Even’s mouth, head void from thoughts. “Thank you so much.”

Even’s arm slides down his side to turn him half-way around and hold him closer, his come-slick stomach pressed against Even’s, but Isak doesn’t have it in him to care about how gross it is. Not this second, and not the next.

“Was it – was it good?” Even’s fingers comb through his hair, eyes gleaming in the red light of the lava lamp. “I didn’t – it wasn’t too much?”

Isak can feel his chest fill with warmth at the concern in Even’s voice. How Even’s able to fuck him that roughly, hold him down and fill him up and absolutely wreck him in one minute and then lie here with big, round eyes, looking so innocent and tender in the next – it’s beyond him.

“It was perfect,” he whispers. “You were perfect.”

“I was?” The pleased smile spreading across Even’s face makes him look both proud and giddy, and Isak wraps his arm around Even’s shoulders, feels the beating of Even’s heart against his own.

“You were.” He nods, can’t hold back the grin tugging at the corners of his mouth. “Shit, Even, I – it was so hot.”

“Good.” Even’s eyes crinkle with delight as he scratches Isak’s neck, making pleasurable little zings of contentment run down Isak’s back. “Was it – like you wanted?”

“You know it was.” He lies still and watches Even bite his lip, the shadow of a smile still playing on his mouth. “But, ehm. How… how was it for you?”

Isak bites his lip, holds his breath for Even’s reply, wondering if he understands what Isak is really asking. It’s obvious that Even enjoyed this – and of  _ course _ Isak wants to know how this… exercise felt for him – but, what he wants to know most of all is, naturally, if it’s made Even any surer whether he wants to take this to the next level. If Even’s actually going to want to do this when Isak is asleep for real.

“Isak.” Even’s eyes are wide open again, his gaze honest and attentive and so, so soft. “I thought it was really fucking hot.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah.” Even nods, licking his lips as he cards his fingers through Isak’s hair. “And, I mean, I – I did it for you in the first place, you know that, but –”

“But?” Isak’s pulse is back up to the bird-quick pace from before, hope and nervousness swelling in his chest as he waits.

“But I’m gonna be much more gentle with you when we do this for real, just so you know,” Even says, tongue darting out to his canine as he watches Isak with raised eyebrows, as if he’s assessing his reaction.

“You want that? Do it… for real? When I’m sleeping?” Isak tries not to sound too eager, not to let his excitement bleed through his voice and overwhelm Even, but he isn’t quite sure how well it succeeds.

“Yeah.” Even’s fingers scratch at his scalp, sending little tingles down his neck, and Isak isn’t sure if it’s from excitement or pleasure or both. “I really do.”

Isak’s sure of one thing, though. He loves Even for this. So fucking much.

“Thank you,” he croaks out, voice thicker than he means it to be, but – the things Even does for him. The trust he’s willing to give Isak, and receive in return.

“My pleasure.” Even’s eyes glitter at him in the dark.

Isak doesn’t have the strength in his arms to shove at his shoulder, so he settles for rolling his eyes instead. 

Even’s face softens as he strokes his cheek, thumb running along his jawline. “We should go shower now.”

“We should.” 

One last kiss, and then Even rolls him over, all the way to the edge of the bed, with a delighted giggle.

Isak’s boyfriend really is the biggest nerd of them all. And fuck, how Isak loves him.

  
  


+1

The first thing Even sees as he opens their apartment door is the light. A red, vibrant glow illuminating the living room, coming from the bedroom door left ajar. 

The lava lamp.

He isn’t surprised to see it – it’s been in the air all week, ever since their  _ practice session _ on Saturday. Lingering in mutual understanding. Anticipation.

Maybe the fantasy Isak shared has made them more attuned to each other as well, more aware of and hungry for one another. Ever since Saturday they’ve fucked twice a day – one day even  _ three times _ – and it’s more than... Even doesn’t know. A long time. All because Isak decided to share one of his most private fantasies with him. 

When Isak first suggested this, Even had done his best to hide his surprise. Never in his life would he want Isak to feel uncomfortable about telling him anything, but this – it definitely wasn’t something he’d expected. Not something he’d ever thought of trying himself, that’s ever turned him on or that he’d expected to enjoy.

And he  _ had _ been reluctant to try, true. Had felt quite hesitant about the fact that he wouldn’t be able to rely on Isak’s body language and vocality; on his usual moans and sighs and muttered profanities, on the way he pushes back against Even to make him hurry up and grabs at him with impatient hands.

But after seeing Isak’s wide-eyed, dark stare, the expectancy and hope bordering on desperation on his face, Even had decided that he really wanted to give it a try. 

For Isak's sake. 

Isak’s reaction only made him more sure. How he basically vibrated with expectation as Even said yes.

As impatient as Isak had been, however, they’d agreed that the weekend probably would be the best time to do it. Partly in regard to Even’s sleep schedule, but mostly because of – afterwards.

Even really wants to be able to take his time with this. Both in the night, and in the morning after. 

So, when he’d suggested that he’d go to Yousef’s for a game night this Friday, Isak had nodded eagerly. Made sure to let Even know that he was tired after a long week at uni and that he wanted to stay home. 

That he would probably go to bed early.

Even can still hear the hoarse, wet tone to Isak’s voice as he uttered the last words, the expectant green under his lashes.

And then, an hour ago, the text. 

_ Going to bed now. Will be asleep when you come home. I love you. _

The pulse quickens in Even’s stomach as he removes his shoes and carefully places them on the rack. Shrugs out of his jacket and hangs it on the wall, careful to not make any noise.

He takes a quick detour into the bathroom to wash his hands and brush his teeth; his mirror image staring back at him with dark eyes, cheeks flushed from the brisk walk home and maybe from something else as well.

Some nervousness perhaps, and probably a not so small chunk of anticipation.

From thoughts of what awaits him in the bedroom when he’s finished in here. 

How he really is going to go through with it this time because he knows, he  _ knows _ , that this is what Isak wants. 

The mere thought of that practice, of that silly idea that Even more or less accidentally spat out makes something warm unfurl inside of him. How hot it had been, how happy Isak was afterward. 

He spits the remains of the toothpaste in the sink before he turns the lights off and leaves for the bedroom. 

Isak’s body is a long lump under the duvet; lying on his front with one leg angled out to the side, as always, the only visible parts of him a mop of blonde waves on the pillow and a single foot sticking out by the end of the bed. In the warm light from the lava lamp, Even can see the slow rise and fall of the duvet; Isak's light snores the only sound in the otherwise silent room. 

Even tiptoes up to the bed, and, with a swirl in his chest, sees Isak’s cheek lie squished against the pillow; mouth hanging open, his bottom lip skewed slightly to the side.

It’s obvious that he’s deep in sleep, the kind that you sink into when you’ve only slept for a little more than half an hour. Even’s timing couldn’t have been better.

Carefully, Even peels out of his clothes, folding them and laying them gently on the chair beside the bed. A warm whiff of air comes from underneath the cover as he lifts it, and he shivers slightly as he slips into Isak’s space. He’s naked, as Even knew he would be, sighing contentedly in his sleep as Even relaxes into him.

Even nuzzles his nose into Isak’s hair, breathes in the scent of his shampoo. He closes his eyes for a second, lets himself revel in Isak’s sleep-warm, heavy body, unmoving as Even reaches out and slides his hand along Isak’s back. Up and down, tracing his muscles, soft warm skin like velvet underneath his fingertips. 

He can’t resist the desire to see how all that skin looks as well, so he opens his eyes and pulls the cover down a little. Revels in how the soft, dappled light reflects on Isak’s skin.

Not a sound comes from Isak except for the soft snores into the pillow and Even gets braver; peels the duvet off his whole upper body, all the way down to his thighs. 

Lets Isak lie there, naked, for him to look at. To touch. 

To  _ fuck _ .

He still can’t quite fathom how much trust Isak puts in him. Maybe it shouldn’t feel this significant; after all they’ve lived together for three years and they share everything – money, love, sorrows, friends – but the truth is that it still leaves Even enraptured.

That one of Isak’s greatest desires is to give up every little ounce of control to  _ him. _

The thing is, Even’s never has felt any inclination towards acting dominant in bed. If anything, it’s more often been the other way around; Even needing Isak to take control and absolve him of his rampant thought at times. 

Maybe this isn’t even about dominance, maybe it’s more about trust, or intimacy, or both – Even isn’t sure. The more he’s thought about it, the less sure he is. 

Maybe it doesn’t matter. 

What matters is that Isak wants this, and that Even is going to give it to him. 

He keeps his legs slotted into Isak’s as he turns and stretches for the lube in their bedside drawer; the soles of his feet tingling a little with excitement and nervousness at the weight of the tube in his hand.

They're really going to do this.

He’s careful to warm up the lube with his fingers before he slides his palm over the small of Isak’s back, the coarse hairs along his crack tickling at his knuckles. Lying half-way on his front, Isak’s already in perfect position – one leg pulled up to the side, he’s spread open enough for Even to be able to slide his fingertips all the way to where he wants them without having to move Isak around at all. 

The warmth between Isak’s legs, the tight stretch as Even carefully, carefully presses the tip of his index finger inside – touching Isak like this will never fail to set him on fire. A white hot desire that hasn’t diminished at all in the years that have passed since they met. And, Even knows he’s a sap, is used to Isak lovingly scolding him for it, but he still isn’t over that he’s the one who gets to do this to Isak. That  _ he’s _ the one who’s allowed this close.

And right now, it’s doubled, tripled – almost unfathomably huge, his chest close to bursting as he feels Isak’s rim give way to his finger.

He hoists himself up on his elbow, eyes trained on Isak’s face in the dusky red light – but there’s no sign at all of Isak even registering the finger sliding all the way inside. All the way to where the heel of Even’s palm rests against his ass cheeks. 

Isak only keeps breathing; evenly, through his half-open mouth, the side of his face pressed into the pillow, a dark spot on it from where he’s drooled a little.

It really is beyond Even how Isak can sleep this heavily. How he can just lie here all heavy and limp, not reacting at all to Even’s finger moving slowly in and out of him.

As Even tentatively slides a second fingertip inside, Isak’s eyebrows knit together a little, an annoyed little hum in his throat, and Even stops.

Waits until Isak’s forehead smooths out again and his breath evens before he slowly, slowly presses in further.

Even’s not quite sure yet exactly how to tread this fine line between the different things Isak has asked of him. He definitely doesn’t want Isak to wake, but at the same time, Isak’s made it very clear that he wants to be able to feel what Even’s done to him afterwards.

The tip of Isak’s tongue coming out to wet his lips and the dark, eager look in Isak’s eyes as he told Even not to hold back.

Naturally, Even won’t be able to be any degree of rough with him tonight. Not only because he’s sure that Isak  _ would  _ actually wake up if he was, but also because this – this is the real thing. 

This time, Isak isn’t pretending. Isn’t lying here fully awake but determined on not letting it show; isn't doing everything in his power to keep quiet and lie still, silently encouraging Even to continue. 

This time, Even really is the one in control. One hundred percent. Nothing less.

Maybe, at some point in the future, if they do this enough times – but not tonight.

Tonight, he keeps careful watch on Isak’s eyelashes, on how they flutter a little as Even gently twists his fingers. On Isak’s cheeks, a little darker with flush; on his fingers twitching slightly on the sheet in front of the pillow. 

As if he’s dreaming.

Even kisses the side of Isak’s jaw as he pushes all the way inside; a hint of stubble under the soft press of his lips, Isak’s breathing stuttering a little when Even finally reaches as deep as he can. 

He waits there for a second, two, three, the snug stretch of Isak’s rim around his fingers slowly giving way. 

Another snore from Isak, and Even pulls his fingers out, heart fluttering in his chest as he finds the lube again and coats his own cock with it. He bites his lip as he strokes his hand up and down along the shaft, holding back a groan at the stimulation. At the fact that in just a minute he’s going to be inside Isak, without him having the slightest idea.

As strange as this whole idea had seemed to him at first, he can’t deny that this – being given permission to touch Isak any way he wants, with him lying there oblivious, unknowing –

It does pull at something inside Even, something dark and deeply rooted that he’s a little reluctant to embrace. A kind of possessiveness that he might not take pride in, but that still makes his stomach beat hard with desire.

And, knowing without a doubt that Isak wants this, that the mere thought of Even taking what he wants from him like this turns Isak on more than anything – that particular detail is and will always be one of Even’s biggest turn-ons, after all.

He dries his fingers off on the sheet somewhere behind him before he slides his palm over Isak’s hip, pulling gently at his ass cheek so that Even can slot the tip of his cock to where he wants it. To the familiar press of Isak’s hole, soft as first, then tighter as he pushes inside. Just a little, just the tip – but it’s enough for Isak to let out a muffled groan, fingers curling into a loose fist on the sheet before him. 

Even stills, not pulling out but not pushing further either; smoothing up Isak’s side with one hand and gently stroking his hair with the other. 

Waiting, steeling himself to keep his hips in place, to let Isak’s breaths sync into his own.

Until finally, Isak seems immersed deep in sleep once more. 

When Even starts to push in again, he goes slower than he ever has before. Measured and gradual, gaze fixed on the little twitches at the corners of Isak’s mouth and eyes. He listens to the whimpers that escape Isak for every centimeter Even’s cock sinks inside, hushed whines and grunts as he half-snores, half-stirs against Even’s front.

It goes on like that; an excruciatingly tentative push and pull until finally Even’s lodged all the way inside. Surrounded by the hot tight press of Isak’s ass, by his scent, his presence. Even’s chest snug against his back, arm firmly lodged around his waist.

For a moment, Even stays like that. Closes his eyes and tries to will away the frantic thumping heating up his crotch, urging him to go fast, faster. Tries to focus on Isak instead: how he lies completely still, silent and unmoving. Just accepting what Even gives him, without knowing.

A light kiss on the ball of Isak’s shoulder, and Even pulls out just a little, just to see how Isak reacts.

_ If  _ he reacts. 

Isak’s mouth still hangs open, but apart from that he doesn’t move. Doesn’t make a sound except a weak, soft sigh that could be just sounds of sleep.

When Even sinks back in, however, Isak gives out a strangled little whine, and Even has to bite back a moan. Stays still, again, until Isak goes quiet – and as Even slowly starts moving again, Isak only sighs; an occasional grunt as Even dares to take it a bit further, widen the range of his movements and pull out more for each slow, controlled thrust. 

The drag of Isak’s walls around his cock is delicious, so tight and warm, and Even can feel himself start to sweat from the effort to move this languidly.

It’s never been like this before. 

Sure, they’ve taken it slow on occasion, wanting to try out how long they can keep each other on edge, or wanting to make things last – but in the end one of them has always lost their patience. Most of the times it’s been Isak flipping them over, fucking Even fast and hard until they’ve both come, panting and spent. 

This time, however, Even really is going to stick to it, however excruciating it might be. Partly because he wants to keep his full attention on Isak for any signs of discomfort – but also because he wants to see everything, feel everything. Catalogue all the small things. Remember them. For his own sake, and for Isak’s. 

Even wants to be able to tell him everything in the morning. 

Wants Isak to know how his hair starts to curl from sweat at the nape of his neck and how his cheeks flush dark when Even pushes inside a little harder. 

Even is rock hard now, molten heat collecting in the pit of his stomach. The muscles in his back have started to ache from the slow, continuous work, and he changes position; still inside Isak, he carefully hoists himself up on his knees to sit across Isak’s thigh.

Just like when they practiced.

Isak sighs a little in his sleep as Even shifts around inside him, and Even stills for a moment; strokes his hands up Isak’s sides, down along his back. All the way down to Isak’s ass where Even has made space for himself and  _ fuck.  _

He just  _ has _ to see what it looks like.

Has to put his hands on Isak’s ass cheeks and pull them apart, see how Isak is stretched around him. He can’t resist pushing inside again, just a little, and when he both sees and feels the clench of Isak’s rim around his cock, he has to bite back a moan. 

Fuck. 

Normally, there’s a limit to how much Isak lets Even look before he starts squirming and spurs Even on, but  _ now – _

Now, Even slowly strokes his thumb along Isak’s stretched-out rim, along the thin, sensitive skin, wet and red and so perfect. Isak sighs as he does it, a shaky exhale, and Even can feel his skin pulse with anticipation, his chest, his head, his cock. 

Normally, he might have let his thumb slip inside, fit it beside his cock to make Isak lose it completely.

But not tonight.

Tonight, he just presses it down lightly; pushes his cock a little deeper in at the same time, and Isak gives out another muffled whimper, eyelashes fluttering slightly, a twitch to his lip.

And then, with a quiet snore, Isak’s hips jerk a little. 

It’s such a tiny movement that it’s barely noticeable; makes Even wonder if it really happened at first – but as he sinks in and bottoms out, Isak does it again. And this time, it’s obvious that he’s pushing back against Even, even though he’s still deep in sleep. 

The sight makes the pull in Even’s groin almost overwhelming, and he pulls out a little further to try it again. Pushes in with just a little more force, Isak meeting him with a jerk of his hips and a disoriented, throaty whine.

The second Even stops, so does Isak; body limp on the sheet, a long, soft exhale coming from his still open mouth. 

So, Even does it again – pushes in a little harder, not so forceful that it might wake Isak up, but hard enough to shove Isak further into the mattress, completely without resistance. 

Even’s so close to the edge from the soft press of Isak’s ass, from the heat and the wet squelch of his cock pushing into him, over and over. From the sight of Isak just lying there, taking it, without any say or knowledge – only the occasional whimper, the involuntary upwards twitch of his hips. 

In a way, Even doesn’t want to come yet – wants to prolong this sensation, wants to keep watching this sight spread out beneath him. But, on the other hand, he isn’t sure for how much longer he’s going to be able to keep this up without waking Isak. 

And that’s the last thing he wants to happen right now.

The hot coil in his crotch tightens with each lurch of his hips, makes his movements clumsy and less coordinated, and he can feel his legs start to tire from the controlled thrusts. With the next pull out, his thighs shake a little, and before he has time to steady himself with a hand on Isak’s hip, his cock slips out of Isak with a wet squelch.

Even’s just about to lean forward and press inside again when Isak whines, a quiet, distressed sound, and lifts his hips up. Higher than before, as if he’s searching for Even. Exposing his red, sloppy hole, open for Even, urging him to fill him up again.

Even’s pulse flutters in his ears, a hummingbird heartbeat that makes his head spin and his throat turn dry. 

Hands shaking, he lines up his cock and shoves it inside, the heavenly pressure around it making tears form in his eyes. He moves much faster than he means to, pushes inside all the way with a drawn-out sob, and for a moment he’s afraid that he’s taken it too far.

But the only thing that happens is that Isak pushes back, once more, and this time he does it with a guttural, throaty moan. A sound so honest, so mindlessly full of pleasure that Even can’t hold back anymore – slams in again, once, twice, Isak moaning into the pillow, hands gripping tight into thin air, and Even’s coming, coming, hands on Isak’s back and no breath in his lungs, only white hot pleasure in his veins and Isak’s warm, shaking body beneath his palms.

When his vision finally returns, the first thing he does is to lean over Isak, searching for any signs of wakefulness on his face. Isak’s still moving in tiny, aborted shivers, hushed little whimpers weakly escaping him, but his eyes are closed, and he’s lying in the exact same position.

Fascinated, Even watches as he gradually stills, breathing evening out and fingers jerking before they turn limp again. Isak’s skin is covered with a thin sheen of sweat, gleaming in the light from the lava lamp, and his hair is dark at the roots, curling at his temples, but there’s no movement left in his body, no sounds coming from him. 

Until finally, there’s a soft snore, and Isak’s head lies unmoving on the pillow.

Every bone in his body turned to jelly, Even breathes, in and out, watching Isak sleep like he’s never done anything else in his life.

As if Even didn’t just fuck him into the mattress and filled him with his come, Even’s cock softening inside his ass, a drop of come slipping out as Even slowly lowers himself to lie down beside him.

In a way, he wishes he could stay inside Isak all night, sleep with his cock lodged deep inside him, locking every final drop in there. Let Isak feel it all when he wakes in the morning.

But, as he aligns himself with Isak’s body and cradles his arm around his waist, he’s sure. Holding Isak close, like this, is more important right now. 

Isak sighs as Even sidles closer, carefully rolling him up on his side so that they’re spooning, Even’s chest to Isak’s back, Even’s knees in the hollows of Isak’s, Even’s nose in Isak’s hairline once again.

Their skin damp with sweat, a tad uncomfortable, and Even should probably go shower. On the other hand, there’s nothing in the world that can make him leave Isak’s side right now. 

After what he just did, Even needs him this close. Needs to kiss the back of his neck, slide his palm down his side, the back of his hand accidentally brushing against Isak’s cock as he caresses his stomach. 

He’s still hard, hard and oblivious, tip wet and nudging against Even’s knuckles, and Even’s heart skips a beat.

In the morning, he’s going to tell Isak all about it.

Get him off with his hand, and whisper all the filthy, unbelievable details in his ear. Maybe push his fingers back inside Isak, let him feel how wet and sensitive he still is, like the last time.

Or, maybe,  _ maybe,  _ he’ll slide his dick inside Isak’s sloppy, stretched out hole and fuck him again. 

Just because he knows Isak will love it.

After, Even’s gonna make him breakfast. Bring it to bed and eat it there; Isak complaining about bread crumbs on the sheets but wolfing down his toast anyway. Black coffee and pancakes, and Even smiles to himself at the delight he knows will be all over Isak’s face as he bites into them. 

But, until then, Even’s just going to lie here. Close enough to feel Isak’s heart beating against his own, slowing down into the same rhythm as always. Slow and calm. Safe.

Even slides his arm up Isak’s chest, a content hum escaping Isak as Even finds his hand to slot their fingers together and curl them together on the sheet. 

He sighs back, breathing into Isak’s hair, Isak’s steady breaths rocking him gently, like waves rolling into shore. Home.

And like that, they sleep.

**Author's Note:**

> Hope you all liked this! We're [modestytreehouse](https://www.modestytreehouse.tumblr.com) and [irazor](https://www.irazor.tumblr.com) on Tumblr, come say hi!


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